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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26051449">Anchor</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenForADay/pseuds/QueenForADay'>QueenForADay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forehead Kisses, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Immortality, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani is an Incurable Romantic, M/M, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, POV Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Protective Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Sleepy Cuddles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:08:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,817</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26051449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenForADay/pseuds/QueenForADay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe keeps watch over Nicky during one of his nightmares. </p><p>Post!Movie</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>286</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Anchor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nightmares plagued all of them. Dreams about each other stopped as soon as they met. Nicky had a nice way of thinking about it. <em>Destiny</em>. They’ve all been alive for far too long to believe in any god or higher force. Nothing had a sense of humour that cruel to make a person able to live forever, and then to snatch it away with no rhyme or reason. Though maybe something does, and its playing with them. Maybe in some long-forgotten past life, they pissed someone or something off just enough to warrant this curse.</p><p>Maybe they’re memories. They seem familiar enough. Past skirmishes and wars, and friends lost along the way. He doesn’t like to dwell on them. Being flung awake drenched in a cold sweat and gasping for breath is enough. But one has to wonder.</p><p>His memory can only stretch back so far. Then things start to get grainy. He can’t remember the streets of his home, but he can just about make out the general shape of his mother’s face, or the smell of olive oil and garlic.</p><p>He remembers the first time he killed Nicky. And the first time Nicky killed him; which was fair, Joe <em>did </em>strike first. And he remembers every look and grazing of fingers against skin and every smile that erupted out of a kiss.</p><p>Nicky makes it easier. They all help each other, in their own ways. Joe talks. Booker listens. Andy offers a walk to shake the last chill of fear out of the bones. Nicky stays, waiting until the trembling stops and his heart can slow down.</p><p>He remembers the first time; blue eyes watching him through the lapping flames of a campfire, a soft frown creased along Nicky’s brow. He remembers trying to go back to sleep, staving off the cold fear that shivered through him. And his ears twitched at the sound of boots crunching and shifting gravel. A body sat beside him, on his side of their camp. Warm eyes washed over him, keeping the shadows at bay; just until the sun could peer over the nearby mountains and flood light into the cave they had taken shelter in.</p><p>Now, though, he curls around Nicky. Or Nicky rests his head on his chest, an arm and leg thrown over him, half-pinning him down to the bed, as if he would get dragged away. Warmth blooms through him then. Even in the worst, storm-riddled nights, he’s warm and safe and anchored.</p><p>For the first time in a long time, peace laps and settles over the house. Tucked away in some backstreet of Florence, they’re just waiting for Copley to tell them that it’s clear enough to break cover. After everything that’s happened, the last thing they need is eyes falling back on to them.</p><p>So they sleep. Well, most of them do. Andy is still getting used to the whole sensation of it; always having been the one to keep watch throughout the nights. But now she doses like the rest of them, occasionally surfacing at the slight creak of a floorboard or the thrill of a bird outside. When Joe glances over, his eyes soften at the blanket strewn over her, a pillow curled beneath her as she drifts further down into sleep. Nile keeps watch for the night, content enough to perch by the balcony and look out on to the sprawling terracotta city in front of her.</p><p>Two thin and worn mattresses pushed together into the corner of the would-have-been living room make up their bed. They sleep how they always have, comfortably and entangled in each other. Even sleeping, their hands clutch on to anything of the other’s that they can find; hands, arms, fistfuls of tees.</p><p>Joe breathes. His nose is nuzzled into the back of Nicky’s head. He smells clean, freshly showered and the familiar musk of the man coats the roof of his mouth and settles. He stays like that for God only knows how long. He’s content to be there, swaying in and out of sleep, the familiar scent of his partner lulling over him.</p><p>He doesn’t’ know what time it is. An ink-black sky speckled with stars stretches on outside. The first thing he sees through bleary, sleep-sore eyes is Nicky’s shoulders beginning to tremble. His scent changes. Something acrid and bitter stings the roof of Joe’s mouth. His nose wrinkles. Joe makes a quiet nose in the back of his throat. He reaches for one of Nicky’s hands, squeezing firmly. <em>It’s alright. I’m here. You’re safe</em>.</p><p>It tempers the worst of the tremors, but Nicky’s face still pulls in tightly, a grimace stating to etch into his brow and lips before his breathing starts to stutter.</p><p>Joe wades further into consciousness. Shaking the last of sleep from himself, he hushes Nicky tightly. <em>Tremors. Breathing. Noise</em>. He knows what will nip and snarl at Nicky’s nape as a nightmare chases him down. All he can do is try and chase it off. If all else fails, he can just make sure it doesn’t startle the other man too much.</p><p>A whine slips out between Nicky’s lips. And then he’s flung. Whatever had been stalking and toying with him was done with their play. Nicky’s eyes snap open, darting around the room as he tries to make sense of what’s what.</p><p>Joe shushes him. “<em>It’s alright</em>,” he thrills in Italian, the familiar lull of it lapping over the other man.</p><p>Nicky looks over his shoulder. Blue eyes, wide and glinted with fear, settle when they land on Joe. “<em>Angelo</em>,” he breathes, turning in Joe’s arms. Joe loosens them just enough for Nicky to move. The man turns and curls up against Joe’s chest, settling his ear just over his heart. A steady rhythm. One Nicky tries to copy. His own heart hammers and stutters in his chest, at fear of breaking out through his ribcage or coming up his throat.</p><p>Joe cards his fingers through Nicky’s hair. It still smells like the generic pharmacy-brand shampoo. And beneath it all, there’s a twinge of something sour. Fear. “You’re alright,” he gentles, combing hair and helping Nicky regain his breath.</p><p>Its the worst thing in the world; usually kind and gentle eyes chilled with fear. He doesn’t deserve it. None of them do, but especially Nicky. He’s too kind for what this world has become.</p><p>He still trembles. And Joe’s heart aches as he tries to soothe and gentle. He casts a quick glance over Nicky’s shoulder. Nile is watching them from the balcony. She quirks an eyebrow. <em>Alright</em>?</p><p>Joe sighs, lifting a shoulder. <strong><em>Nightmare</em></strong><em>. </em></p><p>Nicky’s nose buries into the hollow of his throat. Every trembling breath eventually evens out and begins to settle. The others can offer all the help they like; Joe settles Nicky and Nicky settles Joe. Each lungful of scent pulled in eases tensed up muscles and a flighty mind. So he smoothes his hand over Nicky’s shoulders and back. He cards his fingers through his hair. He hums something that might have been a lullaby from his mother.</p><p>He won’t ask what’s haunting him. Nicky will tell him in his own time. And he can probably hazard a guess as to what it might have been this time. Only because his own nights have been soured with the same heart-stopping and stomach-churning thought.</p><p>“<em>Tesoro</em>.”</p><p>Joe peers down. Nicky’s usual glimmering blue eyes look back at him. Behind all of it, there’s still a small glint of fear still lingering.</p><p>Joe’s heart clenches. “You’re safe,” he mumbles, the words tumbling out from his lips without much thought. They’ve been through countless sleepless nights. Nicky’s brow smoothens. Reaching out tentatively, because there is always the chance that a night terror could come stalking back. Joe brushes the backs of his knuckles over the arch of a cheekbone. “Nothing will ever hurt you,” he breathes. “Not while I’m around.”</p><p>The frown returns. Nicky’s face blanches as his hands begin to tremble.</p><p>“You won’t be left alone, <em>caro</em>,” Joe insists, trailing the tips of his fingers along Nicky’s jaw. “You’re stuck with me. Understood?”</p><p>Nicky’s mouth cracks open. Words try to spill out, but they catch in his throat.</p><p>Joe’s eyes harden. He will <em>not</em> have night terrors and evil anxious whispers breathing ridiculous ideas into his lover’s ear. “You and I are bound together,” he mutters, catching Nicky’s cheek in his palm. A soft swell of warmth blooms in his chest at the sight of Nicky’s eyes fluttering closed, and he nuzzles into the touch. He thumbs over the ridge of Nicky’s cheekbone. “I know it’s confusing and scary. But we’ll find out why what happened to Andy happened. Until then, it’s you and me. Like always.”</p><p>A long slow sigh leaves the other man. “<em>Ti amo</em>.” Eyes drift down and linger on his lips. It’s as natural to them as breathing; leaning forward to catch lips, sighing contently when their noses brush.</p><p>This is all either of them ever needed. Each other. And it’s the source of so much grounding; as long as he’s wrapped around the other man, he’ll be fine. As long as he has those blue eyes looking back at him, and that shy smile he tries to hide whenever Joe looks at him, everything is good.</p><p>Nicky breaks them apart, but keeps their foreheads pressed together. Their noses brush and a shared breath sits between them. Words linger on the tip of his tongue. But he swallows. “It’s ridiculous,” he breathes, nestling into their shared bed. A light laugh rattles out of him. He reaches up, skimming his fingers over Joe’s forearm. Skin erupts into gooseflesh. “I’ve had you for longer than anyone has had anyone,” he whispers, “and it’s still not enough time.”</p><p>Joe clicks his tongue. “You act as though I’m going somewhere,” he mumbles. And he isn’t. This is his family. His life has no meaning with Nicky.</p><p>The other man thins his lips. “It’s not up to you, though,” he replies, his hold on Joe’s arm tightening.</p><p>It’s stayed with him. It stayed with all of them. Eyes have lingered on Andy since they drove away from Merrick’s labs. No one mentions it, but it sits on each of their tongues.</p><p><em>They can die</em>.</p><p>Joe shakes the thought from his mind. “Shh, now, <em>caro</em>,” he brings himself closer to Nicky. Het blooms where they’re pressed against each other. He parts just for a second, reaching for a blanket kicked down to the foot of their makeshift bed. He tugs it over the both of them, settling down with the other man with a sigh. Nicky’s eyes blearily droop closed. He clambers to stay awake – with Joe, where it’s safe – but he sinks further and further down as sleep washes over him. Joe presses a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be right here, my love. Sleep now.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I love my immortal gay sons/dads</p><p>tumblrs;<br/>yourqueenforayear (personal nonsense) | agoodgoddamnshot (writings)</p><p>Kudos &amp; Comments gladly appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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